"Cray, David - Little Girl Blue" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cray David)

At five feet ten inches tall, Julia Brennan was able to look her
subordinate in the eye. Griffith had been a part of C Squad, Manhattan
North Homicide, for the five years she'd been its supervisor. There'd
been some friction at first (whether more or less than would have been
aroused by an equally young, equally ambitious male she couldn't be
sure), but it had disappeared when C Squad's clearance rate, mediocre
when she'd come on board, rose to compete with those of the top squads
in the city.

"How you think she got here, Bert?" Julia asked.

Griffith caught his lower lip between his front teeth, then shrugged.
"Could'a walked. Could'a been carried."

"But not driven."

"Uh-uh, not driven. Can't see it, lieutenant. Not unless there was
two of 'em."

Julia nodded. Central Park's nearest east-west transverse road was
almost a quarter-mile from where they stood, and Central Park Drive,
which traced an irregular ellipse within the park, lay two hundred
yards to the west, as did Fifth Avenue, the nearest city street.
Because there was no legal parking on any of these roads, it was
extremely unlikely that the perpetrator if there was a perpetrator left
his vehicle unattended for the time it would take to carry the girl to
where she now lay, then return.

"What about a car? Could she have jumped out of car, maybe coming down
Fifth Avenue? What if she was snatched somewhere else, then escaped?
If her abductor wasn't somebody she knew, he just might let her go."

Detective Frank Turro, Bert Griffith's partner, came up alongside them.
"The ME's here," he announced. New to the squad, Turro was six months
short of his third decade on the job. He'd been sent over from Queens
Homicide after Julia arranged the transfer of C Squad's most notorious
fuckup. From what little Julia had seen of him, Turro could be relied
on to do what he was told but lacked initiative.

"Already?"

"What could I say, loo. Somebody must've got him motivated." Turro's
breath whitened the air in little bursts. "Also, Chief Flan-nery's
waitin' for you on Fifth Avenue. In his Lincoln."

Chief Linus Flannery was the Manhattan North Borough Commander, a man
more at ease with a flow chart than an investigation.

"Is he alone?"